Aggressive Me, Passive You

Chapter Four

EDITED

Chapter Four - Having a Laugh With Hunter

Before I went to the library, I grabbed all the textbooks that I would need for homework from my locker. I didn't listen to any of my teachers while they were teaching, but since Hunter was an honor student I figured he could help me. That was his job after all, right?

After I signed in, I walked to the familiar table from yesterday, except it didn't have the card number. All that was at the table was a very frustrated looking Hunter. I would have asked him what was wrong, but in all honesty, I could have cared less.

I pulled out the chair across from him—the same one I sat in last time. He smiled small at me and straightened his posture; he had his back hunched over at first.

"Hey," he quietly said, "how'd your day go?"

"It was cool." I pursued my lips together.

"That's good. Mine was cool, too." His eyes trailed to the books—I placed them on the table when I sat down—perched upon the table. "What kind of homework do you have?"

"Well, I don't know. What books do you see on the table?" I sarcastically asked, mimicking his voice.

"You're not going to let me catch a break, huh?" He nervously chuckled. I could tell he was trying to joke, but he felt a little uneasy.

"I'm just messin' with you." I said. I didn't want to go overboard. "Wanna help with my homework?"

"That's kind of my jo—" Hunter started to say, but I cut him off.

"—if you say that one more time." I groaned.

"Sorry, no need to be so feisty."

"I gotta be feisty because I'ma black girl, right?" I raised my eyebrows. I was referring to what he had said yesterday.

"Exactly," he leaned back in his seat. "Wait no, I didn't mean that!"

"Yes, you did!" I snickered.

I wasn't even tripping on what he thought about black women. It humored me to mess with him. It was funny that he thought I cared about his opinion. It was also funny to see him get all flustered.

"I really didn't mean it like that." He put his hands up in surrender. He no longer looked frustrated; he looked shaken up a little bit. That was still better than being frustrated.

"So, what do you think about black girls?" I put my hand to my chin and leaned forward on the table, totally forgetting about my homework.

"Do I have to answer that? Is this a trick question? Because yesterday you didn't too much like what I had to say."

"The whole point of this program is to gain a new friend, right?" He nodded his head. "I'm just tryna learn about my new friend."

"Fine," he crossed his arms over his chest, "fire away."

"Would you ever date a black girl?" I quizzed and a crease formed on his forehead.

Samantha said she knew his type, so I would like to know from him. Asking him if he was into black girls was a way of limiting out other options. I was a very straight forward person, so I wasn't afraid to ask him anything. If I wanted to know something, then he had better believe I was going to ask it.

"No." He shook his head.

"Why is that?"

"They're um . . . not my type."